


The Aftermath

by cloud0fcker



Category: Outlast, Outlast Whistleblower
Genre: After the whole asylum thing, Blood, Gore (maybe), Sexual Tension, Violence, male on male intentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 10:56:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8486674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloud0fcker/pseuds/cloud0fcker
Summary: An infamous hero that shut down the Murkoff corporation is now struggling with the guilt of being alone- Waylon Park. All the horror that he had witnessed in that asylum are driving him off the edge. Thanks to an organization that was built to help the survivors of Mount Massive Asylum he feels as if things are looking up for him- but good things aren't meant to be. Things go downhill from there for the one who is just trying to live a normal life.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note that this will contain some very sensitive materials since it is stuff from the Outlast game as well as the DLC, it is an aftermath of this so things may not be perfect.

The Murkoff Corporation. It was organized in the unholy acts to control a being known as ‘The Walrider’. But like anything that tries to control something that they have no hopes of controlling- they fail. For this corporation that’s what happened. Thanks to the work of two men to expose the secrets of the Murkoff Corporation. The cruelty they put inmates through. All the twisted experiments and horrific workers. It was finally put to an end nearly two years ago. There was an organization that had been created for the inmates that were left behind. Casualties had been high in the asylum. But for the ones who survived the horrific manslaughter at the asylum they were given the care they deserved.

 

“Let’s recap what you’ve just told me, Waylon.”  
The therapist shift in the chair almost uncomfortably. Hands settling together on top of the desk surface.  
“Things haven't been the best for you nor your family due to past events. Your wife- I mean… ex wife, had decided it would be best if she take the kids and leave for safety. Left without a word. And you have fallen to desperate measures to numb out negative feelings due to said events. So now you finally come back to us to- recover?”  
“Yes…”  
The infamous Waylon Park. There he sat with his head bowed in shame. After nearly two years it was unexpected to have this finally happen. Things had been crumbling between him and Lisa but he never expected it to end like this. In the end this was the result- a worn out and wasted away man. He fell so hard that he had to seek help from the people he wanted to lose contact with forever ago- even if they did help him.  
“Mr. Park-”  
“Just call me Waylon.. Please.”  
“My apologies, Waylon. We would be happy to take you into our care, but we have to be sure that you will cooperate with us to the full extent this time and not just these once every few months visits. As you should be aware of is that we have a facility designed for people, such as yourself, and patients, that have survived the events that occurred at the Mount Massive Asylum. If you want our full amount of help then we will have to assign you to helpful sessions over there to recover. And if you so wish we can even set up a living quarter for you until you have recovered and are stable enough to live on your own once again. How does that sound?”

 

It sounded like something horrible. Everything about it just felt like it would go wrong.  
But what did he have to lose now?

 

A nod was given.

 

“You have my full cooperation sir..”

 

The promise had been held.  
Arrangements had been made for Waylon to move into one of the living quarters by the next day, which was great because he had reached the verge of almost losing his apartment- that's what happens when you're unemployed. Even if Waylon hated the thought of living in close proximity of the horrible patients from the asylum it was his only chance of trying to move on with life. It was actually a surprise that the people of this organization be able to create something such as this. To freely help all the people who had fallen into Murkoff’s clutches. Simply amazing.  
There wasn’t much to take to move into his ‘new home’. Since Lisa had taken most of the wealthier items with their kids it left Waylon with a lot of junk. The only thing he mainly took was all his clothes and his prized laptop. Good thing the organization provided things that were most needed in the hotel-like room. A bed, refrigerator, and bathroom. The room was small and snug but it was just enough space for one person. Perfect for Waylon since it would only be him for a long time. Negative-  
There wasn't much for him to unpack. All his clothes could at least fit one draw but he spread them out throughout the dresser. There were three drawers so he put the shirts in one drawer, pants in another, then boxers in the third drawer. It was pitiful- the amount of clothes he had was so little.  
Waylon scowled at the dresser. It was a polished wood. That's what the tables seemed to be made out of as well. Everything was a boring mellow color. It would be calming if it weren't so boring.  
A light beeping sound rang from a watch he wore. Holding his wrist up to take a look at the time a brow a furrowed in confusion. What did he set this alarm for again?  
Then it dawned on him-  
“Shit…” With a light hiss Waylon hurriedly changed out of the shirt he wore and into a cleaner shirt. Then he left the room, locking the door behind him.  
Waylon had been scheduled for a session with one of the doctors here. It wouldn't be polite of him to be late, especially not after all the trust they were putting in him. Because he must be one of the most sane people out of all their ‘patients’. The least he could do was be on time for these sessions, first impressions were everything.

How this place was set up was so that the living quarters were separate to the main building. It wasn't a big distance to cross. The living quarters were like mini apartments, but the interior had the similarity to a hotel. All because it had that feel that a hotel has, plus there was a person station at a ‘front desk’ just in case any patients got out of hand or needed medical aid. Things were really thought out for this place.  
The main building looked like one of those asylums you see in the movies, all because that's what it basically was since it housed some of the most twisted people both mentally and physically. A sad fate for the patients to escape one asylum but end up in another.

 

The building's interior had been unknown to Waylon so he didn't know what to expect upon traveling through the building. Actually- he did have a thought of what he might see. He expected to see naked men running around screaming or a lot of men in straight jackets fighting against being restrained.

 

But he was completely wrong.

 

No one was running around naked. No one was in straight jackets.  
Everyone acted like normal people. All the patients were dressed in baggy clothes or pajamas. They walked around. Talked to each other. And seemed very mellow. It was actually quite surprising considering how crazy these people use to be. They seemed- normal.  
Of course some of them had scars on their faces due to the experiments that were performed on them. But other than that they looked normal. And all they did was walk around or sit around reading.  
There were some who still acted a bit nuts. It was the mild kind of crazy. It really seemed like they had things under control here and that they worked some kind of miracle on these use-to-be crazy patients.  
Waylon was starting to have a good feeling about this place. Maybe they really could do something to help him-

 

Then something--no- /someone/ caught his attention.  
Right as he had been passing by a classroom-like room with windows to peer inside it there was someone that he recognized. One of the many people that had tried to kill him- Frank Manera. The cannibal of the asylum.  
Just the sight of the man made Waylon freeze up in fear. His heart practically leapt up into his throat. And he stood there with wide eyes, frozen in place like a doe about to be hit by an oncoming car in the night. Everything numbed into silence except for the thudding of his heart. People in the room actually noticed that he was staring. But didn't know who he was staring at- yet, not until Frank looked up from the table he sat at and right at Waylon. That's when Waylon noticed a difference in the man- the glossy look in his eyes, graying hair, and how awfully skinny he was. It now surprised him that he even recognized Frank. But it seemed as if the old cannibal recognized him as well because his eyes widened and he quickly scrambled out of his chair. Waylon could only watch as the man pointed at him in a scared manner and open his mouth widely, the screaming could only faintly be heard through the glass. But this reaction- it was something Waylon should be doing.  
What was going on?


End file.
